


kiss me with adventure

by farplanes



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chocolate chip cookies as a sexual metaphor, M/M, Not-Skaters, Thirsty Victor Nikiforov, Viktor's housewife / pool boy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-30 00:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16275236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farplanes/pseuds/farplanes
Summary: There’s a silk kimono draped over his shoulders that he purposely allows to slip down one shoulder, inch by scandalous inch. Viktor Nikiforov looks like a cool glass of water on a sweltering summer’s day, and he knows it.Soon the sexy boy he’s invited to his home will know it, too.





	kiss me with adventure

**Author's Note:**

> This was sitting half-written in my drafts for months before I finally rolled up the proverbial shirtsleeves and finished it. Hope you enjoy! :-)

Viktor’s not anywhere close to as conniving as Chris likes to accuse him of.

Well—not _usually_. This particular day however, he has to concede to some conniving behavior on his part. 

There’s a batch of store-bought chocolate chip cookies firming up in his oven now, their only true purpose to enhance the illusion of warmth and welcome in his otherwise lonely bachelor pad (if a victorian bungalow in the middle of the suburbs could be called such). His hair is blown out into artful coils that frame his face handsomely, loaded with fruity smelling products. He’s just finished with his 7-step skin care routine, to include a brown sugar face scrub, a collagen sheet mask, and layers upon layers of hydrating creams that make his cheeks glow peachy-pink. He’s smooth-shaven all over. There’s a silk kimono draped over his shoulders that he purposely allows to slip down one shoulder, inch by scandalous inch. Viktor Nikiforov looks like a cool glass of water on a sweltering summer’s day, and he knows it.

Soon the sexy boy he’s invited to his home will know it, too. 

It doesn’t take long, thank god. Viktor’s door doorbell rings about five minutes before the cookies are ready to take out, exactly as he planned it. He rushes to the mirror by the entrance way and ensures that not a hair is out of place, that the silk clinging to his body perfectly emphasizes the athletic curve of his biceps and pecs. There’s strawberry lipgloss on his lips, which he smacks delicately together to even out the texture. Perfect.

He turns to the door and opens it with a smile.

“Yuuri, I’m glad you made it! Please, come inside.” 

All five feet, nine inches of Yuuri Katsuki walks into Viktor’s house at last. He’s slightly sweaty, dressed in a loose tank-top and compression shorts as if he’d just come from the gym. In his right hand is a toolbox he’d brought to supposedly fix Viktor’s pool out back. He looks like all of Viktor’s most indulgent college jock fantasies come to life.

Sweet christ, Viktor should have faked a pool emergency _ages_ ago.

Yuuri smiles back at Viktor and bashfully rubs at the back of his neck. “Hey Viktor. Hope you don’t mind me dragging this thing in. It’s rusty from about one hundred years of being stuck in my parent’s shed.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be able to put those tools to good use.” Viktor gestures at Yuuri’s lower body—where he’s holding the heavy looking toolbox against his thigh, of course. “And really, thanks again for offering to do this for me.”

“I’m happy to help.” Yuuri’s flushing a tad. 

Viktor doesn’t blame him, it’s blazing hot out and the door is still open. He reaches behind Yuuri and shuts the door, careful to get just close enough that Yuuri might catch an opportune whiff of perfume wafting off of his skin.

The air conditioner is on blast and quickly filling the entranceway back up with cool air, but Yuuri seems to be flushing redder. Odd, that. 

“Well, right this way then.” Viktor gestures down the hallway and to the left, toward his kitchen. Yuuri brings along the tool box with little effort, allowing the considerable musculature of his arm to handle the weight. No, Viktor is not staring nor is he salivating at the thought of Yuuri handling _him_ so effortlessly with those arms.

Well. Not salivating yet, at least.

Once they walk into the kitchen, Viktor pretends as if he’s about to open the sliding glass doors out to where the pool can be seen, but his own nefarious plot beats him to it. Yuuri’s sniffing the air and breaking out into a smile before he can unlatch the frame.

“Are those cookies?” he asks sweetly. Viktor turns around and lets the kimono fall another inch lower as he moves. Yuuri’s eyes quickly dart away from Viktor’s chest to stare hard at the illuminated oven instead.

“Yes! I was just finishing up a batch of chocolate chip. You’re certainly welcome to a few, if you’d like?”

Yuuri looks hesitant for all of two seconds before his interest in freshly baked cookies overpowers his perpetual courteousness. “That would be awesome right now, thank you.”

Viktor walks past him on the way to the counter and brushes his fingers across Yuuri’s forearm. “Of course, sweetheart. Set that thing down for a sec.”

Yuuri carefully places the toolbox under the dining table and follows Viktor to the counter. Viktor slips on his bright pink oven mitts right as the egg-shaped timer on the counter starts chiming to let him know that the cookies are ready. “Perfect timing!” he grins at Yuuri, and opens the oven door.

Yuuri closes his eyes and starts sniffing the air again. “ _Mmm_ , that smells so good.”

Viktor nearly— _nearly_ —drops the baking pan he’s just pulled out while shamelessly ogling the look on Yuuri’s face, but he manages to keep a hold of himself just long enough to set it calmly down on the marble countertop.

“Let me guess,” Viktor begins peeling the mitts off, “you usually burn your tongue trying to eat things fresh out of the oven instead of waiting for them to cool first. Is that right, Yuuri?”

Yuuri blushes such a pretty pink as he smiles. “You’ve got my number.”

Viktor smiles back at him. “You should be more careful. Good things come to those who wait and all.”

“That’s what they say. But I’m stubborn, I guess.”

Viktor looks down at the cookies. “Or,” he starts, eyeing the way the chocolate glistens, still gooey from the heat, “you’re a man who knows exactly what he wants, when he wants it, and is willing to take it—” he looks back up to catch Yuuri’s eyes, “—as _soon_ as he wants it.”

Yuuri blinks owlishly. The bridge of his nose is bright pink. 

“Th-that’s a little bit dramatic!”

Viktor can’t help the genuine giggle that bubbles out of him at that. “There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of drama.”

“It's easy to get away with when you’re—” Yuuri pauses for a second.

“When you’re what?”

“Well,” Yuuri looks away from Viktor again, face burning red, “when you’re pretty.”

Now it’s Viktor’s turn to blush.

“Flatterer,” he hums. They spend a silent second letting the moment build as they stare at one another, assessing.

Viktor has the next few minutes planned in his mind:

Viktor offers Yuuri a cookie. Yuuri eats the cookie. Viktor asks if he can have a taste of the cookie Yuuri’s currently eating. Yuuri looks puzzled, but starts breaking a piece off. Viktor waves the piece away and leans toward Yuuri’s face. Viktor kisses Yuuri. Yuuri startles and stammers and blushes and lets Viktor kiss him again. Viktor pushes him against the glass doors and proceeds to climb Yuuri Katsuki like a tree. And so on and so forth.

Instead, this is what actually happens:

Yuuri’s mouth slowly, carefully tilts into a smirk. His eyes flicker bright with realization. 

“Viktor,” he says in a low almost-growl unlike anything Viktor’s ever heard from him before. It makes his knees weak and his breath catch in his throat. “You didn’t actual invite me over to fix your pool, did you?”

Viktor’s still wearing his flimsy little kimono as far as he’s aware, but he’s never felt so exposed—even more so than the time that he and Chris took matching boudoir photos in translucent lace lingerie during their summer studying abroad in France (but that’s neither here nor there).

“No Yuuri,” he answers, letting his fluttering lashes insinuate every possible bit of meaning for him, “I did not.”

They continue staring at each other.

Then—then Yuuri moves.

He walks around the kitchen island and immediately crowds into Viktor’s space, placing a hand on either side of Viktor’s hips, palms pressed tightly against silk.

“You have been driving me _nuts_ ,” Yuuri practically groans, planting his nose under Viktor’s jaw and breathing in, “for _months_. I kept telling himself you wore those yoga pants because you have pilates class right after work, and you fell on my lap like five times a day on _accident_ because my seat is too close to your office door—but no! This whole time, you were being a tease!”

Viktor feels like he just inhaled helium or whatever other chemical could turn his stomach to butterflies and make his head spin. He can feel Yuuri’s body heat pressing all down his front, Yuuri’s lips barely brushing the delicate skin of his throat. Finally, finally. Yuuri’s caught him. 

“Yuuri, I’ve been _wanting you_ , you silly man! I wasn’t trying to be a tease on purpose, I thought I was being obvious!”

Yuuri bumps his forehead against Viktor’s collarbone, shoulders shaking like he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “So your last resort was to seduce me… with cookies?”

Viktor slaps him playfully on the shoulder. “No! You were supposed to be fiddling with my pool while I took a naked sunbath to keep you company. The cookies were just a warm-up.”

When Yuuri turns his face back up to look at Viktor, the expression he wears is comically haunted. “Oh no… That _absolutely_ would have worked on me. And I didn’t even make it past the warm-up? I’m pathetic.”

Viktor hasn’t felt so delighted in ages. He laughs, easy and effervescent. 

“Yuuri, kiss me,” he demands.

Yuuri gets up on his tip-toes and does as he’s told.

His lips taste like minty bubblegum, then like artificial strawberries and warm skin. Viktor brings his hands up to cup either side of Yuuri’s jaw and leans in. He wants to know what Yuuri’s tongue feels like against his, so he presses his thumb into the cleft of Yuuri’s chin and coaxes those pillowy lips open. 

Yuuri’s hands shift from Viktor’s waist to the small of his back, pressing them even closer together. Just as Viktor suspected, he feels nothing but strength in those arms, enough to move his body whichever way Yuuri pleases, for however long Yuuri pleases. The very thought of it makes Viktor whimper. Despite every instinct telling him otherwise, Viktor pulls away from Yuuri’s mouth for a moment, just long enough to gasp, “I want you _so badly_.”

Yuuri chases after him and grins against the corner of Viktor’s lips.

“You’ll have me,” he says.

And oh boy, Viktor _does_. 

Several minutes later, Viktor lays debauched beside the pan of cooled cookies on the kitchen counter, his thighs spread wide open with Yuuri’s head buried between them. Viktor’s kimono has fallen to his elbows, his lipgloss is smeared across his mouth, and his coifed hair sticks against his forehead in a sweaty, sexy mess. 

Another handful of minutes later, and they’re stumbling into Viktor’s bedroom, patting blindly through side table drawers for condoms and lube as they continue to kiss. When they find what they need, Viktor pushes Yuuri down into his sheets and proceeds to place the condom on Yuuri’s rock-hard cock using only his mouth. Yuuri looks as if he’s had a mild stroke and Viktor commits the sight to memory.

An hour later, Viktor is holding onto his headboard and moaning like Yuuri paid him for it as he rides that glorious dick toward his third orgasm of the day. Yuuri looks up at him with equal parts arousal and stars in his eyes, thumbing at Viktor’s nipples reverently. Viktor’s orgasm feels like it lasts _forever_.

It isn’t until another hour later that they’re finally spent. Viktor tucks Yuuri’s drowsy head under his chin and strokes his hair until he closes his eyes. He reaches over Yuuri’s shoulder to grab his phone, squinting at the text Chris had just sent him. 

**How’s the evil plan going, maleficent?**

Viktor buries his face into Yuuri’s hair and grins as he starts to type his response.

**Sleeping Beauty is mine. <3**

**Author's Note:**

> This might turn into a series of short one-shots if all goes well and I don't chicken out lol.


End file.
